Ethan dad, meanwhile, was in his element. He had sold the toy shop to a happy, young family who had promised to keep its spirit alive, and he was now a man possessed, spending his days visiting potential locations for the new gaming cafe, a tape measure in one hand and a dog-eared notebook full of dreams in the other.

TWO WEEKS LATER

The pre-season was a new kind of challenge.

Apex United was no longer the plucky underdog from League One.

Ethan stood in his virtual office, the gleaming EFL Trophy and the LeagueOne Championship shield sitting proudly on a shelf behind him.

But he wasn't looking at them. He was looking at the number on his main screen, a number that still made his brain feel a little bit fuzzy.

Transfer Budget: £10,375,000

The million-pound prize from the cup win, plus the championship bonus, and a small, initial budget from the board.

The key to building a team that could not just survive in the Championship, but dominate it.

The transfer window was open. And it was time to go shopping.

He called his two key advisors.

The first was his AI assistant, James Pearce. The second was his best friend and head of scouting, Liam, who was now a permanent fixture in his own virtual office, a ghostly, brilliant apprentice.

"Alright, gents," Ethan began, the three of them gathered around the holographic display. "We have money. Now we need a plan. What are our weaknesses?"

"Defense," Liam and James said in perfect, immediate unison.

James brought up the stats. "Our attack was the best in the league last season. Our defense, however, was ranked 12th. We conceded far too many goals. To compete in the Championship, against a higher caliber of striker, we need to be more solid."

"I've already got a list," Liam said, his avatar pulling up a series of player profiles.

"We need a new goalkeeper. Gunn is solid, but he's at his peak. We need a world-class prospect. And we need a young, fast center-back to partner with Hanley."

"Show me what you've got," Ethan said, a familiar, excited buzz in his veins.

The next few hours were a football nerd's paradise.

They argued about player attributes, they debated tactical suitability, they scoured the virtual globe for the perfect, hidden gems. Finally, they narrowed it down.

The goalkeeper was a name Liam had been tracking for months.

A 20-year-old from Sporting Lisbon named Franco Israel. He was a brilliant shot-stopper with a 73 Current Ability, but more importantly, he had a secret.

"His potential is SS-Rank," Liam explained, his voice a reverent whisper. "And the best part? Sporting have just signed a new, experienced number one. Israel is unhappy. He's transfer-listed. We can get him for a bargain."

The center-back was another of Liam's finds. A 19-year-old from the Premier League side, Bournemouth. A player named Marcos Senesi. He was fast, he was aggressive, and he was an S-Rank prospect, but he was stuck on the bench behind two established internationals.

"He's desperate for first-team football," Liam said.

"Bournemouth won't want to sell, but if we offer enough... we might just be able to tempt them."

The plan was set. It was time to build a fortress.

The negotiation with Sporting Lisbon was a masterclass in psychological warfare. Ethan, now a seasoned veteran of the virtual deal room, was calm, confident, and utterly ruthless.

He offered £4 million. They countered with £8 million. He feigned walking away.

They came back with £7 million. He offered a ridiculous, complex deal involving a 10% sell-on clause, a friendly match where all proceeds went to them, and a lifetime supply of virtual custard tarts from 'The Gaffer's Dugout' cafe.

They were so confused by the custard tart offer that they forgot what they were arguing about.

They settled on £6 million. Franco Israel, their future SS-Rank goalkeeping god, was an Apex United player.

The negotiation with Bournemouth was a different beast entirely.

They didn't want to sell. Ethan offered £3 million. They laughed.

He offered £4 million. They told him to stop wasting their time.

He was about to give up when he remembered a piece of information he had seen on Maya's 'back door' system. He knew Bournemouth was in desperate need of a new, experienced left-back. And he had one. Dimitris Giannoulis.

He was a solid, reliable player, but at 29, he was at his peak and didn't have the pace for the Championship.

He threw in a new offer. £4.3 million... plus Giannoulis.

The Bournemouth negotiators paused.

They went away to "consult with the manager." They came back ten minutes later.

"Deal."

He had done it. He had spent his entire ten-million-pound war chest. But he had built a defense. A young, fast, and ridiculously talented defense.

He logged off, a feeling of deep, profound, and financially reckless satisfaction washing over him. The new season was just two days away.

And for the first time, he felt like he had a team that could not just compete, but conquer.

He was about to go downstairs and share the good news with his family when his phone buzzed. It was a text. From Liam.

You got them. Good.

A second text came through a moment later.

Now for the hard part.

A third, and final, text appeared, and as Ethan read it, a slow, cold, and very familiar dread began to creep back into his heart.

GridironGuru has just triggered the wager.

The match is on. Tomorrow.

And he's added a new condition.

....

The text from Liam was a splinter in Ethan's mind.

GridironGuru has just triggered the wager. And he's added a new condition.

For a full day, the message had sat there, a ticking clock counting down to a decision he didn't want to make.

He had spent the day with his family, helping his dad with the initial, exciting, and very messy business of clearing out the old toy shop.

They had made plans, they had dreamed, and for a few glorious hours, the virtual world and its high-stakes drama had felt a million miles away.

But now, sitting in the quiet of his room, the future was here. His phone buzzed again. It was the same unknown number. Liam's number.

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